Dance of Death
by KIKUMARU18
Summary: A dark and dangerous secret. A cruel heartless women. A man who's gone through too much. A horrifying truth. A twisted love. What will happen? Set in Imperial China, death is involved. Oneshot


Alright this is my FIRST attempt at writing angst and/or romance. This is my second story on fanfiction. My story Realization is on haitus, I have **not** abandoned it, I just have writer's block. I am trying to push past it, that being said I would rather post a good chapter rather than a crappy one that I have to go back and revise a hundred times. So bear with me

No disclaimers for this, I wrote this based on a myth that's over a hundred years old so I'm not sure who to attribute it to.

Warnings: Gory (in my opinion not bad gore, think there's only three scenes with blood. And I didn't describe them in too much detail since it was for school and I doubt the teachers would enjoy me going straight out with gore and blood everywhere) and yes, it is a tragedy.

* * *

><p><strong>Dance of Death <strong>

Cold, that was the only feeling he could comprehend. The usually bustling city was silent and houses eerily quiet. A warm glow came from ahead, the beginnings to the red zone. A place that was only ever alive at night. Turning away from the safe city streets, he wandered the alleys, listening to the mindless chatter surrounding him. Laughter spilled out from an open door, the lights warm and inviting. The red zone was always busy, even at one in the morning.

As woman stepped outside he faded slowly into the shadows. After years on the run, he had all but perfected his hiding skills. Keeping relatively unnoticed he carefully stepped away from the brothel; they never failed to bring him bad luck. However, light, seductive laughter stopped him in his tracks and against his better judgment he turned. Two women stood outside, it was obvious from their wear that they were prostitutes. Both were beautiful, both were graceful, both were probably well endowed courtesans. One, however, held a grace that the other did not, she stood out subtly, just a little more radiance, a little more elegance, but it made all the difference. Heart thumping, he stood, hidden in the shadows long after they had left. He had planned to leave Chang'an tomorrow not wanting to risk being caught, but she had made him reconsider. Perhaps he would linger a bit longer here, consequences be damned.

Night after night he returned, trying to gain confidence, trying to make his leaden feet walk through that door and his stubborn mouth demand a drink, but fear stopped him. He had been out of the spotlight since he was eight. With good reason too, how did he know the women was not a spy? How did he know that there were no soldiers who might recognize his face or name?

"Can I help you sir?" a soft, melodious voice called to him.

His heart jumped to his throat, effectively stopping any sound that might have come from his lips. Her voice was sweet, gentle, like his mothers. Her beauty blinded him, it was otherworldly, a beauty no mortal should possess. Choking on his words he turned swiftly and hid in the shadows.

"Who was he Yu Lian?" A man wrapped his arms around her.

"Probably another patron, shall we go back inside Feng?" The women turned around, a seductive light in her eyes. Mao Feng grinned, his greedy mind only on the pleasures he planned on receiving. Years of squirming into the new Emperor's system had finally paid off; he was the new tax collector and loved the immense power it gave him.

He watched them from the shadows, letting out an inaudible breath. Thankfully Feng had not recognized him. Perhaps he had changed more than he thought. Some confidence regained at the prospect of his most hated torturers not recognizing him, he stepped further away from the brothel holding her image in his mind.

The moon faded in the light of the sun and the city slowly reawakened. Groups of people came outside to wash, stores opened, street vendors started calling out their prices. Hiding in the shadows of an abandoned alley, a dirty, dusty shack looked on the verge of breaking down. It leaned precariously on a burnt tree trunk, roof nowhere to be found. Mold grew up its side, releasing a foul fragrance into the already stagnant air. It looked inhabitable; the sides splintered, windows shattered, and the door hanging off the hinges.

The man residing inside this poor excuse for a house had not slept a wink that night, his focus revolving around her, YuLian, his mind not letting him forget her face. Discarded papers and ink bottles were scattered over the floor, brushes and ink stones were piled carelessly in a corner. The walls around him reeked of fungus, mushrooms popping out in the most peculiar of places. He himself had not taken a bath in days resulting in a heinous odor. His long, rich, black hair was greasy and tangled; it hung down his back rather than in a ponytail as dictated by fashion. His deep brown eyes were vibrant and bright; full of life and dancing with imagination. A smile cracked his face for the first time in months, showing a young man, not yet 30, in love for the first time.

He had spent the whole night writing; the words flowed smoothly for the first time in years. The more he wrote, the more he wanted to get to know her. Before he knew it, he had fallen in love. It was a dangerous emotion for someone like him. He set down his unfinished manuscript, he would get back to it later, right now he needed sleep and inspiration. He would nap until night, and then finally approach the lady, the lady that had called out his cold and frozen heart.

For years he had hated the Empire, hated all that it stood for. He had sworn revenge, but he would throw it away for her. He had seen his own family slaughtered, his mother and siblings murdered in cold blood whilst calling out for mercy. He had only been eight; they still hunted him and would hunt him until the end of time. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they caught him, especially when he was in their capital. Nonetheless, one's first love was never to be ignored. He would finish this book, he would publish it and then he would turn himself in. If lady luck favored him and granted him Yu Lian's love, then he would die happily, but he wouldn't drag her into his life, a life full of death and sorrow. A family line that the current Emperor would do anything to destroy. Curling up next to the only sturdy wall he drifted off into a happy sleep.

"Welcome, how may we help you?" The brothel was bustling, courtesans skillfully entertaining their guests.

"A place to drink, if you please." He had dressed up; his hair was washed and curled into a bun. He wore his green robes, not his best, but one of the better ones he owned.

"Of course, follow me. I am Li Li" She gave him a radiant smile, he was a new customer and new customers were always welcome. Not to mention he was also exceptionally handsome. His face was aristocratic, even the way he walked demanded attention.

Silently he followed her, his eyes wandering the room to find Yu Lian. The bright colors jumped out at him. The moderately sized room smelled of lavender and vanilla, however if he took a deep breath more scents could be detected. The bitter smell of wine, the sweet smell of perfume and the overbearing smell of drunken men. Draperies hid the tables, allowing couples their privacy. He was seated near the bar, freely advertised.

Fresh meat! His position all but screamed, he watched amused, as the whole of the brothel looked him over. Setting down his glass of wine, he pursed his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he had allowed himself to relax, and to his complete and utter delight it felt wonderful. He engaged in light conversation with the other patrons, not once letting his name slip. Carefully worded sentences had enraptured the many women he engaged, not one noticing his lack of real commitment. His court mask was impenetrable, the people he spoke with left with a sense of fulfillment despite the serious lack of information.

Before he knew it, it was alreadymidnight. Nearly everyone had retired to private rooms. Yu Lian had disappeared hours ago. Sighing he stood up; it was time for him to retire as well. He needed to finish that manuscript and tonight had only reinforced his ideals. He loved her; he knew that as a fact. He wanted to immortalize her, to keep her alive and young forever. Was that not every women's dream?

"More beer, my friends, more beer" A rambunctious and loud voice called out.

He turned to look at the surprisingly loud male patron. He hissed, it was Mao Feng, the bastard. He hated Mao Feng with a passion; the man had no noticeable skill, only making it up the hierarchy by ass kissing the Emperor. Feng was also the man who had ratted out his mother's whereabouts, a spy for the Emperor Tang. He stalked back to the bartender.

"Do you mind if I leave by the back door?" He whispered quietly.

"Of course, just go down that hallway," the bartender smiled, no doubt she had thought that he owed the man money of some sort.

"Thank you" He fell easily back into his court mask, covering up his rage and giving the women a fake smile of gratitude. Court life wasn't something easily forgotten, eight years was hard to forget. Eight years of constantly being on his toes. Quietly he slid into the curtained hallway.

Noise assaulted his ears. The brothel needed to soundproof their rooms more. Rice paper didn't exactly stop noise from permeating through. He winced and considered plugging his ears but decided against it. It would seem impolite and unsophisticated.

A terrified scream tore through the air. No one answered it, most probably thought it was from pleasure, but he knew different. The scream rang of desperation and pain; he himself had screamed like that many times, he had heard his cared ones scream in horror. His blood ran cold, could someone have died? A murder? He was too curious for his own good, he turned to where he approximated the sound had come from. Hiding behind a drapery he slowly inched the door open.

What he saw shocked him. It was Yu Lian. But she was covered in blood. No, it wasn't her who was hurt, she was still moving. No, it was the man lying underneath her, an unknown face to him. His face had gone slack; no life was in his eyes. He himself felt his jaw drop; did Yu Lian kill him? No, that was impossible; perhaps there was a serial murder in the room with them. Even as his mind tried to deny the events, he saw her pull out the knife. He saw her cleaning up the man and remaking the bed, burning the bloodied bed sheets.

His mind seemed to close down on him. He saw it happen, but his body wouldn't do anything to stop it. He was a spectator in his own body. Before his very eyes he saw Yu Lian change, her once perfect face turned mangled, a snout grew where her nose used to be. Her body crumpled in on herself, fur sprouted out where there used to be human skin. When the horrifying transformation was over, the beautiful lady was gone, in her place a fox. A majestic fox, mind you, but still, a fox. He wanted to run, wanted to leave the place and never come back. Forget her, forget she ever existed, forget that he had fallen in _love_ with a _fox_. His brain disobeyed, it forced him to stay in place, forced him to watch the rest of the horrifying show.

The fox grinned; it shook out its deep red fur and growled. Then it leaped upon the dead man, jaws ripping at his flesh. It was a disgusting sight, the rusty smell of blood calling up his memories. Gritting his teeth he forced the horrifying memory from his mind, opting to watch the scene instead. At least there was no emotional attachment here, only shock.

The man's ribs were exposed as the fox tore hungrily at his flesh. Little by little it stripped down the man's meat, leaping on his intestines with delight once they were exposed. Blood was everywhere, it splattered across the room. The smell of death infused the area, the air tasted of it. It was tangy and metallic. Soon there was nothing but bone left, strips of human flesh hanging from them. The heart and brain soaked in a pool of blood beside the skeleton. Thick, red liquid pooled underneath the two vital organs.

The fox seemed content to wait; its white muzzle was splattered with red, the thick coat covered with blood. A mist sprung up from the floor, curling slowly away from the dead man. Almost lazily it formed an orb, gathering itself. It turned oblique, the mist solidifying into a silver sphere. It shot towards the ceiling at neck breaking speed but the fox was faster. It jumped, the orb disappearing into its mouth. Smiling the fox regarded the two organs still left on the ground. Slowly, delicately it ate them. Savoring the taste, the sound of teeth scarping against teeth was nauseating.

There was nothing left of the man, nothing at all. Job done, Yu Lian turned back into her human self. Her black hair, surprisingly, held no trace of blood, neither did her clothes. His body still frozen, he watched as she erased all traces of what had just transpired. Yu Lian lit the scented candles placed in strategic spots around her room. Almost instantaneously the overwhelming metallic scent of blood disappeared. She looked younger now, more radiant. With shock he realized that the man had revitalized her, she had eaten his soul in order to remain young. Somehow she could call out souls; the leap she made out of nowhere hadn't been meaningless. She must have seen the soul. Sadness pierced his heart, with no soul the man's spirit would be doomed to wander the world for eternity. Restless, abandoned and clueless, his spirit would never find rest.

He hated her, this women that thought nothing of dooming someone to that horrible fate. It consumed his body, hate, he hated her so much. To think that he loved her, to think that he had been obsessed over her, even thought of her as his savoir! He forced his body to move, his hand twitched, scratching the door, the rice paper coarse underneath his hand. He cringed at the sound, Yu Lian turned slowly. She pinned him with her gaze, her petite form snapping to attention as she realized that he had most probably seen the whole event.

He watched as her usually composed face slipped into a cruel scowl, her deep brown eyes flickering with red. She crouched ready to lung at him, ready to kill him when his body suddenly unfroze. Like a released spring he recoiled from the door, running for his life. Yu Lian followed him into the corridor but he had already disappeared, in her human form she could never hope to catch up with him. Feeling fear for the first time in years, she hurried back into her room packing up the scant things she owned.

For the remainder of the night and the rest of the day, the man worked fervently, brush scribbling across parchment, tears trailing down his face. How could he have been so stupid? Falling for a demon, an animal! That hadn't been love, it couldn't have been love. But he knew, deep down he knew he had loved her. He had loved that twisted and evil women, loved her with all of his heart and soul. And he hated himself for it. He hated himself for falling for her. The ancient scribed were wrong, love wasn't the strongest emotion. Hate was, and he hated her right now. He would destroy her; he would make sure no one would have to suffer the same fate that poor man had to. His breath caught as he thought of his mother, she would understand wouldn't she? He had to stop that evil woman from condemning more people to an eternity of despair. She would understand that Yu Lian's wrongdoings were far more important than revenge. She _would_ understand.

Heart jaded and grim he wrote one last letter. This would be the destruction of him and ultimately, Yu Lian.

Night took over, a fire raged, consuming an already collapsing house. The man who set the fire said one final goodbye to the temporary home he had claimed. If he was going to die then he would wreak as much havoc as he could. He slipped into the brothel by the back door, quickly tracking down Yu Lian's room and opening the door silently.

Yu Lian turned, eyes widening in surprise. Why had he come back? Was he insane? "Welcome." Her voice was cold; she regarded him suspiciously as he closed the door behind him. He even had the audacity to lock it. Something she had obviously forgotten last night.

He regarded the room, "You are leaving," it wasn't a question.

"I am. Why have you come back?" She asked, eyes following him closely as he sat down on _her_ bed, He was looking for a death wish.

"Guess."

Her eyes narrowed, trying to dig the secret from the deep recesses of his mind.

He grinned darkly, eyes reflecting his hidden madness; "here, thought I could help the poor dead man along a bit" he passed her the manuscript.

She took it suspiciously. He knew, he knew everything, he _knew_. Carefully, and under his scrutinizing gaze she read it. Silence reigned in the room for well over ten minutes. She slowly lowered the paper. "Very well written." It _was_ very well written, a dark and twisted tragedy about a poor man killed by the women he loved.

She eyed him, "Who are you?" she murmured, curious. Up close he was handsome, too handsome. He was noble, or royal, that much she could tell. However, that wasn't what had put her on guard, oh no, it was the name at the very end of the manuscript. An elegantly sprawled Wen Ling Shui. It was the family name of the last Emperor. The one that Emperor Tang had killed to gain the throne, but he hadn't stopped there, he also slaughtered anyone who was related to him during his seize of power.

"A fugitive." He snorted amused. "The only one alive that can challenge the current Emperor."

"So you _are_ his son. Why aren't you dead? They slaughtered everyone inside that palace, everything was raided and no one was left alive." Yu Lian exclaimed, a tinge of victory coating her voice.

"I was eight," his eyes were guarded as he regarded her; wondering if he could trust her before shrugging it off. "A trusted advisor helped me out and I lived on the streets."

She breathed softly, "do they know?"

"Of course they do. That's why I'm still running." Then Wen Ling Shui smiled. It was jaded and dark, not in anyway like the one only a week prior." I imagine even now that there are guards lining your doors looking for me."

She bristled, "What did you do?"

"Sent a letter to Mao Feng about my whereabouts. By now he must have already contacted the Emperor. And wherever I'm concerned, they move _fast_."

"You know what this means right? I'll be killed for harboring a fugitive!" Yu Lian snarled at him. Her face twisted and her eyes flashed red in her rage.

"At least it'll stop _you_!" Wen Ling Shui shot back.

"You'll die too! You're the son of the last Emperor; they wouldn't let someone like you live!"

"I've been prepared to die since I was eight, unlike you." He sneered at her.

Speechless she gaped at him, mind turning over possible ways to get out of this. She knew that he had something up his sleeve when he showed up, but not of this magnitude. She wouldn't be caught. She _couldn't _be caught. Already, she could hear the trumpets being sounded. She grinned slowly as a plan formed in her mind. She turned his back to him slowly, picking up something from the cedar dresser.

Disturbed, Wen Ling Shui eyed her; she had something up her sleeve. He started preparing to defend himself when she turned and lunged at him, a needle in her hand.

"If you promised to keep your mouth shut I would have let you live," Yu Lian mocked under her breath, "but you had to hatch this heroic plan. Don't try to outsmart a fox boy, it _never_ works."

Struggling, Wen Ling Shui tried to fight her off. Horrified he realized he couldn't move, his limbs were numb, he couldn't even control them.

"It's a tranquilizer, in case you're wondering. Damn near impossible to obtain but works like magic."

She dragged his limp body onto the bed. Paralyzed, he stared up at her as she ripped off his clothes, not being able to stop her.

"Poor, poor boy. Dead before thirty, such a pity." She jeered.

Her words sank in slowly. She planned to kill him. She planned to kill him and secure her own innocence.

Yu Lian cackled as realization settled into his eyes, "a convincing story, no? A drunken man assaults an innocent girl; the innocent girl retaliates by defending herself, accidentally killing him in the process. Such a sad, sad story." She laughed mirthlessly.

"You won't get away with this!" He hissed at her trying with desperation to fight the tranquilizer. It didn't work.

"Oh yes I will, a dead person can't overthrow my words now can they?" Yu Lian pressed a dagger into his hands. The dagger was elegant, more decorative than dark. Emeralds glinted on the hilt, not looking like it was stained with blood. But he knew differently, it had no doubt killed countless numbers before. The decorative hilt took attention from the wicked curve of the blade; the glistening emeralds drew your eye away from the razor sharp edge.

Yu Lian flipped their positions with difficulty, grabbing his hand that held the dagger. In the process slashing her clothes and skin. Ruby red dots appeared on her previously unmarred skin. She looked apprehensive as she stared at the dagger in his hands. Then her gaze hardened.

A blood curling scream rang throughout the room. With shock Wen Ling Shui realized she had stabbed her own leg. The scent of blood assaulted his nose, it was pouring out from the deep wound. The cut flesh was jagged and red, blood pumping out at regular intervals, in sync with her rapidly beating heart. He felt dizzy, the overwhelming stench of blood bringing back memories best left forgotten.

_They had come for her first; she was the Empress, the right hand of the Emperor. He could only watch as the soldiers burst into her room, already covered in the blood of his slain siblings. They were dead, all of them. Through the open door he could see his ten year old brother's lifeless eyes. Their screams had pierced his ears, full of pain, despair, hate, and helplessness. Sure they had fought, sure they were always in competition, sure they hated each other at times, but their death still hurt. It was a deep wound that would scar his heart forever. They had not fought with their mother's decision to save him. Rather, they had pleaded with him to extract revenge; their eyes had tormented him with expectation before he was dragged from the room. It was so unfair, he was only eight!_

_He could only watch, that was all he was good for, watching. He huddled in the cramped space, back aching from his hunched position. He knew he could turn his back and leave right now, just like the advisor had, but he felt that it would be cowardly. As if he had turned his back on his mother in her time of need. So he stayed, he stayed and watched as his mother was broken bit by bit by the intruders. _

_He lost track of time. Tears had soaked his shirt; his mouth was open in silent sobs. He didn't dare make a sound, knowing that if the intruders found him everything would be for naught. It was finally over, the room was silent. The filthy, crass, and obscene men had finally left. Even before he dared venture out into the room he knew that she was dead. Her eyes were glazed; the slight rise and fall of her chest had disappeared. _

_What hurt him the most wasn't her death, it was the fact that she could have saved herself, she would still be alive if she hadn't given her escape route to him. In fact no one had known about this tunnel other than herself. She could have left them all to die; she was worth more to the Empire than all of them combined. But she hadn't. She had saved him, a worthless boy who held no real power_

_He curled up next to her, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. He didn't care that he was surrounded by blood, he only cared for her. Her eyes weren't peaceful like all the stories foretold, they were blank. Her face was still grimaced in pain, and he knew, he knew that she had not died in peace. _

_He stumbled back to the tunnel, tears clouding his vision. He swore revenge, not yet knowing the implications of that pledge. _

He had tried, he had tried so bad to avenge his mother. He spent years training, listening, and watching. Then when he turned twenty he struck the first blow. He assassinated the first general. But they had covered it up, saying he died of a heart attack. Year after year he had attacked the empire, setting back their establishment by a few years.

The general was dead, the most central figure in his Empire's defeat. Wen Ling Shui felt like that was enough. It was near impossible to destroy the new Empire now, the Emperor already had heirs. Not to mention he didn't have near enough support needed to overthrow the whole "royal" family.

Now he watched almost serenely as the blade inched closer to his neck. He would finally be with his mother; he could finally leave this detested world behind. His mother would be disappointed that he hadn't completely obliterated the new Empire. But he had struck some lasting blows, and hopefully it would be enough to hinder the Emperor some.

Yu Lian's grip faltered, she hadn't been expecting the almost calm look on his face.

"Are you alright in there?" A soldier called out, "just be patient, we're going to bust down this door."

Resolve hardened her face again, it was now or never. Yu Lian's grip tightened, she allowed a cry of pain to travel past her lips when she tried to shift to a more comfortable position. "Farewell, I wish you a safe journey into the afterlife."

Wen Ling Shui watched entranced as his own blood spurted from his neck. Death reached out to him, grasping him with its greedy hands and pulling him away from reality. The last scene he saw was the splintered door as Yu Lian pushed his body off her, sobbing with fake terror. Then he let the blackness envelope him, allowing the image of his mother guide him to the afterlife.


End file.
